The Running Grave полностью

‘Her boyfriend brought ’em into town. She works up the road in TK Maxx. Told her it was urgent. Right, missus,’ she told Qing, ‘let’s get you into this clean stuff. You wanna do it,’ she asked Will, squinting up at him, ‘or shall I?’

‘I can do it,’ said Will, taking the dungarees, though looking slightly at a loss as to how they worked.

‘Robin can help you,’ said Pat. ‘Can I have a word?’ she added to Strike.

‘Can’t it—?’

‘No,’ she said.

So Strike followed Pat back into the room they’d just left, and Pat closed the door on Will, Qing and Robin.

‘Where’re they gonna stay?’ Pat demanded of Strike.

‘Here,’ said Strike, ‘I’ve just worked that out with Robin. They can go upstairs.’

‘That’s no good. They want looking after. They should come and stay with me.’

‘We can’t impose—’

‘It’s not imposing, I’m offering. We’ve got room, my Dennis won’t mind, and Dennis can be with them, while I’m at work. There’s a garden for the little girl and I can get her some toys off my granddaughters. They want looking after,’ repeated Pat, with a gimlet look that told Strike she didn’t consider him qualified for the job. ‘There’s no harm in that boy,’ said Pat, as though Strike had been arguing the contrary. ‘Just did a bloody silly thing. I’ll take care of them, ’til he’s ready to see his dad.’

There are dangers lurking… pay especial attention to small and insignificant things.

The I Ching or Book of Changes

‘It’s really good of Pat,’ said Robin the following afternoon, as she and Strike headed out of London in the latter’s BMW to meet Sir Colin Edensor at his home in Thames Ditton. ‘We should give her that pay rise, you know.’

‘Yeah, fine,’ sighed Strike, winding down the window so he could vape.

‘How did Sir Colin take it, when you told him Will’s out?’

‘Er – “stunned” sums it up, I think,’ said Strike, who’d rung their client the night before with the news, ‘but then I had to tell him Will doesn’t want to see him, so that poured a few gallons of cold water on the celebrations. I didn’t tell him Will’s determined to go to jail, or that he’s convinced the Drowned Prophet’ll come for him, once he’s interviewed by the police. Thought all that might be best discussed in person.’

‘Probably wise,’ said Robin. ‘Listen, while I’m thinking about it, I’ve swapped my evening surveillance on Hampstead Heath with Midge, if that’s OK. I’ve got something I need to do this evening.’

‘No problem,’ said Strike. As Robin didn’t elaborate on the ‘something’ she needed to do, he assumed it had to do with Murphy. Home-cooked dinner, or something even worse, like viewing a house together?

Robin, who was glad not to be questioned about her evening plans, because she doubted Strike would like them, went on,

‘I’ve got some case news, too – although now Will’s out, it might not matter.’

‘Go on.’

‘I ordered copies of Walter Fernsby’s out-of-print books, and one of them arrived yesterday while I was at work.’

‘Any good?’

‘Couldn’t tell you. I didn’t get further than the dedication: To Rosie.’

‘Ah,’ said Strike.

‘I already knew his daughter’s name was Rosalind, but I didn’t twig,’ said Robin. ‘Then I remembered something else. When we were all being told to write and tell our families we were staying at Chapman Farm, we were asked which people would object most. Walter said his son wouldn’t like it, but his daughter would be understanding.’

‘Really?’

‘So I went back online to look for Rosalind Fernsby. She’s listed as living with her father in West Clandon between 2010 and 2013, but I can’t find any trace of her after that – no death certificate,’ she added. ‘I checked.’

‘Where’s West Clandon?’

‘Just outside Guildford,’ said Robin. ‘But the house has been sold now.’

‘You said you contacted her brother and he hung up on you?’

‘Immediately I mentioned his father, yes. I’ve tried the mother’s landline, but she’s not answering. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Sir Colin probably won’t want to pay for any more of this.’

‘The case isn’t closed yet. He still wants us to find Lin. Speaking of which, did you get the email about Tasha Mayo?’

‘I did, yes,’ said Robin. ‘Fantastic news.’

Tasha Mayo had not only agreed to go undercover at Zhou’s clinic for a week, she’d evinced real gusto for the job and unless something unexpected had happened, might already have arrived in Borehamwood. Her email enquiry had led within half an hour to a call from Dr Zhou in person, who’d taken a long history of her imaginary ailments over the phone, diagnosed her as in need of immediate treatment, and told her she’d need to stay a week and possibly longer.

‘You wouldn’t think she was that gutsy, looking at her,’ said Robin.

‘Appearances are definitely deceptive there,’ said Strike. ‘You should’ve seen her braving the Franks… can’t say I’m over-happy about her and Midge, though.’

‘You think they’re—?’